Combat Salacious Removal
by Metarie
Summary: Every time, she swears it will be the last. It never is. Janice Rand/Jim Kirk. One-shot.


_**Disclaimer: Not mine.  
A/N: Title taken from "Length of Love" by Interpol, which is a fantastic song, if you're interested.**_

"We're drunk, aren't we? We're drunk. Aren't we?" At some point Jim fell out of his desk chair and onto the floor. "I can't tell if we're drunk."

"Yes," says Janice, but she's barely paying attention to him anymore, because the table is spinning? And she's trying to hold onto it, because all the paperwork they'd been trying to go through when Jim suggested they have a taste of that alien ale, or whatever it was, before they got started - it was all about to fly off and get lost somewhere, and if that happened some important people in charge of important things would be angry and Janice hates dealing with angry people.

"What was that stuff? Am I flying?"

"I don't know where you got it..." says Janice. "But it's... potent..." She stares at the glasses of green liquid he'd poured them not long ago at all, and they're still nearly half full.

"I think I'm flying," says Jim.

"We barely drank any of this," Janice says, wonderingly.

"I'm flying. Through space…"

"This is really very potent," Janice tells him helpfully. "This is... this is..." she trails off. "This is really potent."

Jim sits up abruptly, hitting his head on the edge of the table.

"Careful, it's moving."

"Janice, I think something is wrong with us."

"Yes. Yes. We drank potent glasses of potent alien liquor and now we are drunk. I think it could kill us..." Janice stops, stares at him, and their faces mirror each other's dawning horror. "It could kill us. Oh my god, we're going to die."

"What? What? What? No. That's - no."

"But we could," says Janice. "It's possible."

"No. No. Probably not. We aren't going to die."

"Maybe we should stop drinking this stuff?" Janice suggests, as she raises her glass to her lips to take another sip.

Before the liquid falls into her mouth, Jim leaps up spectacularly and knocks the glass out of her hand, and she's too stunned to do anything but stare at him.

He looks back at her from where he's sprawled on the table. "Don't drink that, it could kill us!" He sounds hysterical and Janice feels an irrational twinge of panic in her gut before she realizes he's laughing, a boyish giggle that crinkles his eyes and now she's laughing too, and they're leaning in towards each other inside the same laugh because they aren't going to die, they're just really, really drunk.

Which is why it's so easy to ignore all the rules they break a little while later when her legs are wrapped around his waist and he's sucking a mark on her neck on the floor of the ready room.

* * *

It wears off alarmingly quickly.

"Oh no," says Janice, staring at the ceiling.

"It's not that bad," says Jim. He's lying on his side, looking down at her.

"Oh no."

"Really. It's not a big deal."

"Oh no."

"We'll just keep this between us. And never talk about it ever again. To anyone. Anywhere."

"They could transfer me for this."

"Not if you don't tell anyone, they can't!"

"Oh my god." Janice gets up and pulls her uniform back on. She is mortified and mad at herself but also she notices how much colder she feels now she's not still down there on the floor with him.

"Look, Jan - "

"No. No, no, no, no, we're not discussing this." She pats her hair delicately. "Do I look okay?"

Jim sighs. "You always look okay."

"But do I look like I just violated Starfleet's fraternization policy?"

"Only if you know what you're looking for..."

"Jim!"

"You look fine! No one would guess what we were just - I promise. You look beautiful, as always."

Janice points at him warningly. "Don't do that, Jim. This is never happening again."

Jim raises his hands in surrender. "Never again!" he calls, as Janice whirls around and makes a hasty and flustered exit.

* * *

It happens again.

"How did this happen again," Janice muses, mostly to herself, she's annoyed again as she pulls her boots back on, forcing herself not to dwell on how much Jim had enjoyed taking them off of her. "We aren't even drunk."

"Well, I enjoyed it," Jim declares.

"That isn't the point." She sighs.

Jim pauses. "I'm confused. Is this what you came to see me for?"

"No." Janice picks the PADD up off the floor. "Sign this."

* * *

She hears the door chime as she's packing. "Come in," she calls, and unsurprisingly Jim saunters in, acting like he owns the place, which is how he walks into every room on this ship.

"Packing for shore leave?" he asks, hands on his hips, surveying the mess of clothes and shoes covering the bed.

"Yes."

"Got any special plans?"

"Christine and I have booked a week in the Risan Wellness Sanctuary," she says. When she sees his blank look, she explains further. "It's a spa. A completely stress free and relaxing environment."

He nods. "Sounds fun."

"Yes."

"Can I come?"

"Of course not."

"But Jan," he whines. "I'm going to get so bored... and I'm already going to waste a whole day on a hiking trip with Uhura and Spock... I don't know how that happened... again..."

"Well, you can't come. It's supposed to be stress free and relaxing."

"How come I've never seen these?" Jim asks, leaning over the bed and picking up a pair of her red lace panties, which Janice promptly snatches away from him.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" she asks, sternly. He doesn't answer because he's staring at her legs.

"Jim."

"Yeah?"

"Your attention span needs work."

"Jan. I know what we keep saying." He moves close to her, invading her personal space, but it's him, and he smells so deliciously familiar, so she can't bring herself to mind. "But it's stupid. I just think it's stupid."

"I think it's stupid that we're considering letting feelings get in the way of our careers," says Janice, raising her eyebrows at him.

"Are we considering that?" he asks, sounding surprised and a little hopeful and Janice is fully aware all of a sudden of how annoyed she's going to be with herself later. She takes a couple of seconds to compare what she was doing (packing) with what she could be doing (Jim) - in the end it really isn't a difficult decision and she pulls him down for a kiss and then their hands are all over each other and they fall back onto the bed.

* * *

Janice and Christine are lying on massage tables, with two renowned Andorian masseuses working on them – well, renowned according to the secretary, and all the pamphlets, anyway. It doesn't matter. It's bliss, and they're enjoying themselves immensely, and she'd just as soon not bring it up but Janice has a one track mind lately. "Chris," she says.

"Mmm." Nurse Chapel has her eyes closed.

"I have a problem."

"Oh?"

"Man related."

"Which man?"

"Is that important?"

"Mmm. Maybe."

"I can't tell you."

"Then I know who it is."

Janice ignores this. "The problem is that my emotional attachment alarms are going off."

"He's getting attached to you or vice versa?"

Janice pauses. "I don't know. Both, I think."

"You think."

Janice closes her eyes and for a few moments she just enjoys the hands digging the tension out of her back. Then she lets out a frustrated breath. "I don't know how I feel."

"It would probably be helpful to figure that out," Christine says.

Janice isn't sure.

* * *

She thinks about the things she loves and what she's doing - where she's come from and where she's doing. Janice doesn't care to imagine life away from the Enterprise. But there are things to consider - feelings that are somehow getting stronger, and she sees them reflected in his eyes whenever he looks at her.

There's a secret there, in the air between them, and sometimes Janice thinks everyone can see it.

She cares a lot about that at first. Then one day she realizes she doesn't. At all.

* * *

"It doesn't have to be a thing," says Jim.

Janice has lost count now of how many times she has found herself here, lying naked in his arms, in his bed, in her bed, on the ready room floor, that one time in the back of the arboretum. It's been months since she last thought about putting a stop to it.

She maneuvers herself so she's facing him in the dark of his quarters, propped up on one elbow. "I know," she says.

"I'd understand," he says, casually, but Janice senses he's practiced that tone. "If you... you know. It just doesn't have to be a thing."

"I know."

"I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage - "

Janice laughs once. "Isn't it a little late to be worried about that?"

He smiles a little. "Yeah. I guess." He looks away.

Janice studies him, running her hand through his hair and bringing it around to trace a finger along his jaw line. After a minute she knows, or hopes she does. "Oh my god," she says. "You're not in love with me, are you?"

"What? No. I mean, I don't - maybe. I think - well, it's - possible... but what does that mean? That word." He laughs. "It seems like such a big deal." He chews on his lip, staring at the ceiling.

Janice can't stop the smile from slowly spreading across her face. "You're cute when you're nervous," she says, hooking a leg around the back of his knee.

"No one makes me nervous like you do, babe," Jim says wryly. He lightly runs his hand across her bare back, and she shivers.

"I thought you didn't know what love meant."

"That was corny."

"Only because it's true." Janice leans down to spread kisses over his neck and Jim sighs, humming contentedly.

"What the hell would I do without you, Jan?"

"Don't think about that," she says, meeting his eyes. "Don't. I mean it."

He stares back at her, curiously at first, but then something like relief visibly washes over him. Janice feels it too, though she hadn't realized she was waiting for it.

They watch each other for a moment, and Janice marvels that there are so many things they can say without saying a word, and really, it's how she prefers it. Words are messy. They get in the way. And there aren't any that could say as much as that look he's giving her right now does.

"Okay," he says. "Okay. I won't."


End file.
